


A Lesson in Respect (Remix)

by melitta4ever



Series: Remix [2]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Dom/sub, Multi, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 10:54:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30054363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melitta4ever/pseuds/melitta4ever
Summary: Damar doesn't like it when the Prefect plays with random Bajoran women.A remix for Broken Blade's story of Dukat, Gita and Damar, from Damar's POV.
Relationships: Damar (Star Trek)/Original Female Character(s), Damar/Dukat (Star Trek), Dukat (Star Trek)/Original Female Character(s)
Series: Remix [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2210961
Kudos: 2





	A Lesson in Respect (Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [A Lesson In Respect](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29489148) by [BrokenBlade](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrokenBlade/pseuds/BrokenBlade). 



> Thank you Broken Blade for letting me play in your sandbox. And also thank you for going through all those grammar flops to fix this remix.

How many times had Damar seen him like this? Yet another undeserving, lazy Bajoran kneeling in front of the Gul, trying to curry favor with the Prefect instead of working for it like any self-respecting person would do…That's why it was impossible to teach Bajorans respect! They didn't even respect themselves, how could they respect anyone else? He rolled his eyes... at his own gullibility really. He had genuinely thought that they were here to check the discrepancy in the reports as if the Prefect and his right-hand man had nothing else to do. At least the store owner was at the records office as he had assumed, trying to solve the issue.

“Ah, Damar… impeccable timing, as always.” Gul Dukat turned to him without taking his hands off of the bitch's head. His grin was inviting, welcoming and a little naughty. And it made Damar weak at the knees. Like a little kid.  _ Weak _ ! He hardened his face, no need to advertise his shame.

The slut tried to complain, pretending that she had a shred of decency. Not doing a good job either, not while handling the Gul's cock like it was business as usual. Maybe it was, for a whore like her.

As if she was a blushing virgin the Gul tried to placate her —because he was a gentleman, regardless of whom he was dealing with. He also always knew what to tell hysterical women, how to calm them, make them smile... Even the wildest of them turned into harmless kittens when the Gul cast his magic. Damar didn't have the talent, the patience or the desire to even try. Definitely not for a Bajoran harlot. Instead, he stole a glance at the organ in the stupid girl's hands, gleaming under the too-bright lights, begging for attention. Damar recorded the scene in his memory, to revisit later, again and again. He catalogued every small detail of that dick, from how the scales fractaled toward the tip, to the little twitches revealing the Gul's desire, from how its juice beaded up at the top, to how that drop rolled down the shaft… 

“Come, stand beside me so she can reach you." The Gul was talking... to him?

Damar's heart started pounding in his ears, his blood was roaring past his ear drums, rendering him deaf. Did the Gul really say that? To him?

The stupid girl was talking again, her voice high and whining, but this time Damar was glad for the distraction. The Gul explained it all to her, slowly, and by doing so he answered the question Damar couldn't ask. Yes, he really did say that. Yes, to him. 

He stepped closer as ordered but froze when the Gul pressed the girl's hand to his privates. 

The Gul had huge hands. Strong hands that were roughened where they bore the burden of the sword. Capable hands, skilled in matters both violent and delicate. Damar knew those hands well, through many battle-field check-ups, numerous training exercises and countless back slaps… but never this close to his dick where he could feel the scales grazing over the fabric.

"See, he’s more than eager, dear." He must know. Of course, he knew that Damar was eager. It was impossible not to sense it. "Open your pants, Damar." 

Damar's eyes went directly to the Gul's member. The Gul held it in his palm as if it was perfectly normal to talk like that. Like Damar was the strange one thinking that baring his cock next to his Gul in front of a Bajoran skank was indecent.

He raised his eyes to the Gul's and found him smiling, eyes daring him. Daring him to refuse? Or daring him to accept?

"Show the young lady proper respect. She’s earned it more than any Bajoran you’ll ever meet.”

Respect? Was he really saying that the act of treating her as a cheap whore was being respectful? Not that it would surprise Damar to learn that Bajorans had such a crooked sense of respect. Or...Or what?

The Gul raised an eyebrow, indicating that he was expecting to be obeyed. Damar gave a curt nod. He would obey. Always.

He unfastened his pants and bared himself open. The girl's eyes grew larger upon seeing him.

“He’s swollen! Does it hurt?”

He was going to correct the stupid bitch, but the Gul shut him up, to spare his girl's feelings.

The little whore started licking him, as if she was holding one of those big jamba sticks that Bajorans were so fond of, pretending that she enjoyed doing her job. Maybe she did. She wasn't half bad doing it. But it wasn't her enthusiastic slurping that revved up Damar's engine. It was the Gul, who was so close… right next to him… stroking his own dick... gently, very gently… no hurry whatsoever. Damar couldn't peel his gaze off of that action. The tip was periodically emerging out of his fist, glistening and dark. Damar could smell him. He could almost taste the precome leaking from the tip, salty and strong. His mouth watered, getting ready for an action that would never be done.

“Didn’t I tell you, Damar?”

Tell him what? Damar wasn't listening. He wasn't even looking at him. Not at his face. When his panicking eyes rose up to the Gul's, Damar found him grinning. He had been watching Damar! Not the girl. His long tongue slithered out, licking his lower lip. A burst of thirst rose in Damar, lust too strong to keep in. 

"Sir!" he fucking moaned.

The Gul wasn't fazed by the outcry. He ordered the girl to get to business but didn't wait for her to comply. With a hand covering most of her head, he directed her mouth onto Damar's cock.

"I realize he’s exceedingly large but he’ll ease into you like a gentleman – won’t you, Damar?" he asked, but his hand didn't wait for any easing. He kept pushing her deeper and deeper. "Go ahead now – that’s it – slowly." The push was slow, yes, but insistent. Damar expected the girl to complain, gag, push him away crying, complaining about the size… Didn't happen. The Gul must have trained her well. "Yesssss – that’s my man – good, gooooddd.”

Damar watched the Gul watching him, moving the girl's head as he pleased. He watched how the Gul pleasured himself too: How much he squeezed, how he rubbed, how fast he stroked… How his breath got faster, how his lips strained, how he bit his lips… How he squinted his eyes, how his neck strained, how taut his body became…

When Damar moved his hand towards the girl's head, he knew its actual destination. It wasn't an involuntary move; nor it was sudden. Damar watched how his fingers slid over the brown curls toward his goal, that big, meaty, strong hand. The Gul's fingers were buried in her hair, but Damar still found a way to slide a finger under it, then another. He could feel the strength of the Gul's grip, feel the little tremors traveling all the way from his other hand.

"No need to crush my hand, Damar, there’s room on her head for both of ours.”

Crushing? Damar's hand was under his… Still he pulled his hand back away. Or tried to. Nails clutched in between the scales of his fingers stopped him. He raised his eyes up and found the Gul smiling, an expectant smile. Damar gave another tug, the nails pulled his scales back more and dug into his skin. Just this side of painful, yes, but the Gul's smile widened, pleased. His hand —the one working on his dick, not the one nailing Damar's hand— started moving faster, making a powerful soundtrack to this marvelous affair. It was the last nudge sending Damar flying to the finish.

"Let me know when you’re close, Damar. I don’t want you finishing before me.”

Shit! He pulled the brakes, reining his cock, biting his tongue...he obeyed. Always. Luckily, the Gul didn't take too long, he pushed Damar to the side and entered the waiting mouth of the girl. He slid into her throat in one single move. And Damar couldn't control himself any longer facing the Gul coming, watching him shake with pleasure, with that serene relaxation on his face.

Suddenly that serenity lifted.

"Dammit, not in her hair…did I say you could do that?”

The words might have hurt if not for the Gul's hand covering Damar's dick. Damar came in the Gul's palm, his fingers gently touching the tip of Damar's dick, scales grazing over his sensitive ones... lightly tickling, gently scratching. Damar closed his eyes, savoring the pure bliss. He didn't open his eyes even after he was finally done. Not even when the Gul started chatting with the little bitch, moving her to the side. Not until he was addressed.

"You should be ashamed of yourself, Damar—" Right, shame on Damar because he was treating her as she rightly deserved. "Gita never leaves a mess." Damar put his sated dick back into his trousers, trying to stop himself from rolling his eyes. The Gul and his precious whores. "How very interesting that you would say ‘Bajorans could use a lesson in respect’, when evidently you’re the one who needs teaching.”

His voice changed at the last sentence. Nothing that the little bitch could catch, but Damar knew the Gul. It wasn't his angry voice, that seething inflection full with the promise of destruction. It wasn't his annoyed voice either, coming out whenever he was fed up with the antics of the clueless masses. Not even the weary voice that became a constant during the talks with his wife who chose to stay back in Cardassia. No, there was a hint of excitement there. Not reminiscent of his recent orgasm but something new and provocative. A hint of expectation and hope. But what was new in his voice? The absolutely novel thing that Damar had never heard from him before? Doubt, maybe?

Damar took a big risk and bowed his head. "Sir."

“Stop talking and get on your knees." He couldn't see the glint in his eyes, but Damar could hear it well enough. The joy, the desire… "You’ll clean me with that mouth, instead of making excuses.”

He bent one knee, then looked at the Gul's eyes. Ahhh, that smile! That reserved, barely there smile. Full of pride and exhilaration. He bent the other one, his eyes fixed on the eager eyes. The Gul's breath hitched when Damar shuffled toward him, on his knees, finding his place between the open thighs. Damar held the hand saving his seed, and brought it to his face. Slowly because this momentous occasion required veneration. 

The girl must be watching, not that she could comprehend what was happening. Even if she caught the subtle darkening of the neck ridges of the Gul…or recognized the ephemeral tremors of the tiny scales at the tip of that sharp nose…or saw the way his irises grew, ever so slightly… Even then she could never understand the meaning behind them. Not like Damar did. Not even if she knew the symbolic meaning of touching one's palm in Cardassia.

He dipped the tip of his tongue in the warm puddle and licked the scales underneath. The Gul's sharp exhale swirled the hair at his nape and Damar felt him go rigid under his mouth. He sucked, and kissed and lapped until his tongue found no other taste but the Gul's own. The Gul gave an imperceptible nod and Damar stood up with a nod of his own. He stepped back, enjoying the glint of astonishment in the Gul's eyes. 

That's exactly when the stupid girl had a bout of jealousy and attacked the Gul's lips. Damar huffed a smile and shrugged off the disrespectful conduct. She was but a stranger who could not possibly grasp the connection between the Gul and Damar, its depth or strength. Just a little girl playing little games with big men… Damar wasn't going to begrudge her that small kiss.

  
  



End file.
